Practicality is for the Bland
by blinnn
Summary: Casey's English Essay! "..he's rude, obnoxious, gaseous, sexist, and absolutely crude. And even though it took me forever to realize, he's made the biggest and –surprisingly- bestimpression on my life." DASEY. One-shot.


AN: HAPPY 16th BIRTHDAY BLAIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR :D (Disfordasey) HEHEHE

I hope you enjoy this!

*I came up with this idea because of the new daseys on twitter, scrappyventuri & keenerzilla! Go follow them! They're awesome. This is supposed to be as if it were an english essay for Casey's class!

PS. I WILL be updating Who Knew soon, I have been sooooooo busy lately. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. LOL ANYWAYS. ENJOY!

Summary: Casey's English Essay! "..he's rude, obnoxious, gaseous, sexist, and absolutely crude. And even though it took me forever to realize, he's made the biggest and –surprisingly- _best_impression on my life."

* * *

Casey McDonald

GE217

Practicality is for the Bland

I'll be completely honest, when we were first presented with this assignment, I was a bit apprehensive. I tried so hard to find someone in history or someone inspirational from today's lime light. No one seemed to fit all of the criteria of someone that changed my whole perspective on life. I thought about writing it on my mother, but… even though she _is_ always there for me when I need her, and she _does_ give me advice on looking at situations in a different light, and I mean, I love her to _death_… she just wasn't the right person for the essay. For the longest time, I still couldn't think of who to write about. _Everyone_ had crossed my mind at one point of another, and although they all mean so much to me, none of them were the suitable choice.

One day, it finally occurred to me that the one person I hadn't thought to write about; the one, whom I immediately ruled out at the beginning, was precisely the one my essay _needed_ to be about.

Now, being a stickler for organization… I have never written the body of an essay before the introduction, but this time I couldn't help myself. As soon as my fingers hit the keyboard and started typing, I disregarded all rules of Modern Language Arts. That, to me, is pure chaos!

As for the man behind the essay… well let's just say he's rude, obnoxious, gaseous, sexist, and absolutely crude. And even though it took me forever to realize, he's made the biggest and –surprisingly- _best _impression on my life.

I met him when I was just fifteen years old, and instantly my whole world turned upside down. He's a 'master-prankster' but don't let him hear me calling him that; his ego will inflate to the size of the Goodyear blimp –if it's not already there. My mother arranged for us to meet in the halls of his High School, and I hadn't a clue until I got there that any of it was happening. That's when I met Derek, or… so I thought. He was sweet, kind, and totally friendly! I was so glad that we got along… that was until I found out I _hadn't_ actually met Derek. Instead I met Derek's friend Ralph, who Derek has _paid_ to show me around the school.

I know what you're thinking… what kind of decent human being pays their friend to act like them so that they didn't have to do what their parent asked them to do? Well, I'll tell you something. Derek isn't like most people. Some might say he's lazy… but I know that's not true. No lazy person goes through all of the trouble that Derek does to pull a prank. He verges on diabolical. Again, don't let him know I said that…

Now, this is obviously developing very slowly, and you're probably confused as to how on Earth a guy so vile could have any kind of positive impact on my life. Let me explain how Derek rapidly became… my –as cliché as it is- rock.

After finding out that Derek was in fact, _Ralph_ and that _Ralph_ was also _Derek_, I let him –and my mother- know just exactly how I felt about him. I was sickened, disgusted, agitated and most of all disappointed that I had believe such a falsehood. You're probably wondering what my relationship is to Derek, and why exactly we met in the first place… but I'll get to that soon enough. It's probably the least important detail of our entire story.

Our personalities clashed, yet at the same time, we're so similar it's scary; and maybe that is the prime reason we _did_ butt heads. We fought constantly, everyone around us just casualties of the war that _was_ Derek vs. Casey. Every day was a battle, and it only got worse when we were forced to live with each other. This is where I tell you that Derek's my brother and that we're _family_ and that we really _don't_ fight, we just act as thought we're one, big, happy… Brady Bunch type of clan. That's not true though, and if I were to tell you that, I'd be seriously deranged.

Derek's my _step-_brother and the only way that we're related is through our parent's marriage and… as a result, a baby half-brother… but other than that that, we have absolutely no familial ties to each other and… that's the way it should be. When we first met, I had a sister, and he did too, along with a brother. Together there were five kids, and the two sides of the family didn't meld so well. It was hard, and it took the better part of a year for us to even consider the respective younger siblings as our family. But it happened. His brother and sister are just as related to me as my own blood, and my sister is the same to him, but to each other… we were nothing but housemates… that despised each other.

As time progressed, we got closer. The fighting continued, but it became less bitter and more endearing. And yes, I am aware that it's a bit contradictory, but… nothing about my life seems to be normal, so I just accept it. Derek and I rubbed off on each other. I had picked up some tips, involuntarily, about letting loose once in a while. Derek took a bit of cajoling, but eventually he got his act together and graduated High School with good enough grades to join me here at Queen's.

Certain moments of our past added up to us spending more and more time together and… as much as we protest, we enjoy each other's company. We even each other out; we're each other's anchor. When one of us gets off track, the other is right behind, as a guide back to where we're supposed to be.

I'll repeat: Derek isn't like most people. He's… special(and not in the 'oh he has magical powers' type of way). He never ceases to amaze and surprise me. I'm sure that I know him better than anyone else does, and that used to bother me. Now though, I love being able to see the way people react to his antics while I just sit back and chuckle, having gone through hell and back to know what I know about Derek Venturi.

Derek has taught me a lot, in the time I've known him. Before, my life was droll; a routine that I followed, but wasn't entirely excited about. I thought I had everything all planned out, what I wanted to do with my life, where I wanted to be when I turned twenty-five, what type of man I wanted to marry; how many kids I would have. Everything fit into a well organized plan. But after living with Derek, I'd come to realize that sometimes things don't go according to plan. Sometimes the unexpected happens… sometimes things get in your way.

Obstacles. Overcoming obstacles is a big part of what Derek taught me. If I can deal with the intrinsic ways of my asinine step-brother, I'm sure I can overcome just about _any_ type of problem that I'm faced with.

In the midst of the lessons that Derek has taught me, I've also learned to stop caring what people think. If I live my life constantly trying to please everyone around me, I'll be miserable. Everything that this man has done for me, although unintentional, has made me realize that, as much as you plan and arrange, some things are just out of your control.

Like… love. Love is an untamable force; I've seen Derek fall in love and fall out of love. I've heard him complain about his past, current and possible future 'flavors of the week'. Derek was a lady's man, and as his step-sister, some of those ladies came to me for an easy in to Derek's life. They were foolish and obviously daft if they thought I would be of any help; especially knowing that Derek and I didn't exactly get along for the most part.

I was fortunate enough to hear about Derek's amazing kissing techniques and… other… techniques that I could have lived without knowing. The girls he dated were always blonde, IQ smaller than their shoe size, with an obnoxious giggle and an irritating way of twirling their hair with their index finger. Most of the time it took all I had in me to keep my lunch in my stomach.

Back to love, I've only known Derek to be in love once… and the girl was actually someone I could stand. The flame soon died though as she moved across the country to a prestigious University and Derek was left heartbroken. I was left to pick up the shattered pieces… and… it kind of broke my heart too.

After a little while Derek was back to being himself, and he seemed to forget all about the only girl he had ever told those three words too, apart from his baby sister, of course. They have a wonderful relationship. It's precious, really. Derek and I graduated High School together and the night of the graduation, our lives took a turn towards change.

I don't know what compelled me to say it, and I still regret it to this day. In the kitchen, that night… we were browsing through our course programs guides and discussing our plans light-heartedly. A bit of witty banter here and there and all of a sudden I used the term "brother" with_out_ the "step". He instantly corrected me, as we always do when someone uses the familial term the wrong way and… I went for it. I don't know what I was expecting… maybe some sort of clarifying moment… a profession of truth of some kind; anything. I said, "Same difference." And there it was. The four years that we had spent together, making sure that there _was_ a difference between siblings and _step_-siblings… and I just threw all of the hard work away.

Like I said, I don't know what I expected him to do or say, but I didn't think he would agree with me. It was definitely not what I _wanted_ him to do. I'm a woman, he is a man, don't men understand that when women say things, they –most of the time- mean the exact opposite?

He paused, looking into my eyes, and for a moment I thought maybe I'd get something out of my faux-pas. Then he just said, "Yeah… you're right." And moved on to talking about the Women's dormitories and how we should live in the same residence. It was just such a surreal moment, yet nothing came out of it and we never mentioned it again.

Then, during the summer, even though we were supposed to have dropped the step prefix, we referred to each other as step-brother and sister, respectively. As if it never even happened. I was kind of glad about that, because I rather wish it _did_ never happen.

As I was saying before I delved deep into the unknown, _love_ is a seriously tricky devil. It can bite you at the worst times and with the worst people. I know because I'm in love, with the worst possible person I could _ever_ be in love with. I'm in love with a guy who is obnoxious and sexist and completely and utterly reckless. And even though I know it's not practical to have these feelings, I wouldn't wish them away; ever.

All the planning I've done in the past, all the magazine clippings I've saved for ideas of future wedding arrangements. All of the men who I'd deemed suitable for marriage. None of it will ever amount to what I can have with the one that I want. The one that I _need_. The man that I've written endlessly about. The man that I can't stand to live with but wouldn't be able to live without. I'm in love, and the man I love may drive me crazy, but… as he always says: it wasn't a very far drive.


End file.
